Love Sick
by miscellaneouselements
Summary: when alfred doesnt show up for a meeting, or returns his calls, arthur goes to see whats wrong.
1. Chapter 1

**Me: Alfred, don't forget there's a world meeting today.**

I had sent him a text expecting an almost immediate reply from the American. He hadn't responded, so I assumed he was still sleeping. Well, it wouldn't be my fault if he comes walking in late.

We're halfway through the meeting now. Or, we had a break now at any rate. I check my phone to see if he texted me back, since he isn't here.

Nothing.

So, I send him another message.

**Me: Alfred, you're late. You need to get over here.**

I go back to the meeting after that.

It was as normal as it could be without Alfred. Francis started the argument this time by bringing up my eyebrows again. We fought while the others did whatever it is they do while we fight. Then Ludwig got the meeting under control and we actually got somewhere since Alfred wasn't there.

I call Alfred while I walk to my car, since he hasn't answered any of my texts. He doesn't answer, so I try again. He doesn't answer and I start to worry. He normally answers after the second time you call, if not the first. I call again to only be lead to voicemail.

Something must be wrong.

I get in my car and drive down to his house.

I knock on his door when I arrive an hour later. There's no answer, so I open the door with the spare key he gave me.

"Hello? Alfred?" I call as I walk inside the dark house.

The only response is a sneeze from the living room.

I go in there and find Alfred sleeping on the sofa. He looks sick: his skin is pale and he looks a bit green, he has dark circles under his eyes, and he just looks terrible.

I go over and place the back of my hand on his forehead. He has a fever. I go run a cloth under cold water, and then come back and place it on his forehead. I then go make some tea and come back with a cup of it. I sit down across from the sofa and wait for him to wake up.

As I watch him sleep, I start to notice things about him that I haven't before. Little, simple things. Like the way his chest rises and falls as he breaths. How nice his wheat colored hair looks. How his fingers twitch a bit every now and then in his sleep.

I realize I'm leaning over him. When did this happen? I start to move back, but Alfred grabs my arm. I try to pull it away, but he won't let go.

"Let go of me." I push his shoulder, trying to get my arm back.

He wakes up after a minute. He looks up at me and squints a bit, unable to see without his glasses. He doesn't let go of my arm.

"Let go of me wanker." I tell him, pulling on my arm again.

"British dude? What ya doin' here?" he asks me, not letting go of my arm. He sounds a bit congested.

"You weren't at the meeting and you wouldn't answer your phone. Now let go of my arm." I decide to ignore his grammar for the time being.

He lets go of my arm with a smile. "You were worried about me. But I'm fine."

I look at him for a moment. "Have you had anything to eat?"

"Naw. Jus' sittin' makes me feel dizzy. I don't think I can make it to the kitchen."

"Well, I'll just get you something." His eyes widen a bit in horror. "Don't worry. I'll just get you some soup from your cabinet." He visibly relaxes.

I get up and go to his kitchen. I look around in his pantry until I find some soup. I don't know why people have the same reaction when I tell them I'll cook. I'm a great cook.

I make him the soup, which doesn't take long, and come back into the living room. I place the soup on the coffee table. Alfred fell asleep, so I shake his shoulder. He wakes up and I slowly help him sit up. I give him the soup and sit across from him again. He slowly eats the soup in silence. He must really feel out of it to be so quiet.

When he finishes, I help him lie back down and put the wet cloth back on his forehead to help keep the fever down. He falls asleep after a few minutes. Seeing as its night, I let myself fall asleep an hour after he does.

Sometime during the night, I wake up hearing Alfred clumsily coming down the hall.

"Alfred?"

"What?" He sounds hoarse. He sits across from me on the sofa.

"Are you feeling better?"

"No."

"Why are you up?"

"Got sick."

"Here, lay down." I get the cloth back on his forehead. He takes my hand. His is cold, and a bit clammy.

"Thanks for staying with me Iggy. You didn't have to, you know that, right?"

"Of course I needed to stay." I say, smiling a bit. "I need to make sure you're alright."

He gently squeezes my hand. He starts to say something, but sleep over comes him again. I smile and ruffle his hair a bit. I try to let go of his hand, but I just hold it for a minute or so before letting go and sleeping in the chair across from him


	2. Chapter 2

I'm awoken the next morning when Alfred throws a pillow and hits me in the face with it. I start to yell at him, but he's stumbling down the hall in an attempt to run, looking green. He stumbles back and falls onto the sofa a minute later looking paler than before.

"How long have you been like this?"

"I don't know dude. Since yesterday? The day before?"

"Did you do anything? Get any medicine?"

"Naw, I jus' need ta rest. I'll be fine."

I go over and sit next to him. He's curled up on the side of the sofa. "If you're not better soon, I'm getting you to a doctor."

"But don't you do spells and stuff like that? Can't you make me better with your magic?" He looks over at me.

"No, it doesn't work like that." It probably could, but I'm worried something will go wrong and I'll hurt him.

He turns over so he's facing me and grabs my hand. "Come on Arthur, you can do it."

"No, I won't."

"Please?" He gives me his puppy dog look, which is still very effective despite him being sick. I look at the table, trying to block it out.

"No Alfred."

He tugs on my arm and I can almost _feel_ the look he's giving me. "It would be easier, and it would get me better faster."

"It won't work."

He pulls more persistently on my arm. "Please? Don't you want me to get better?"

"Of course I want you to get better."

"Then why won't you use your magic or whatever?" He has a really annoying whine to his voice. "Please?"

"No! I don't want anything to go wrong. I don't want to make you worse."

He hugs my arm. "Alright. I'll come with you." He sounds hoarse and his voice is a bit scratchy.

"Shh. Rest your voice."

"Alright." His voice is barely a whisper. He falls asleep after a minute, clinging to my arm. I break my arm free of his grip and wrap it around him

A few hours later I wake up holding Alfred. He's curled up to my side. I check his forehead. He still has a fever, but it's not as bad as

it was yesterday. I get another cold cloth and hold it to his forehead and him to my side as he sleeps.

Alfred wakes up a half hour later. He looks up at me and squints a bit, trying to see me better. After a minute he smiles.

"So you stayed, huh? I was half expecting you to leave." He laughs a bit, but stops short, wincing a bit, so his throat must hurt.

I smile and rub his arm a bit. "I won't leave until you're well Alfred. Now, do you feel better?"

"Kinda. My headache's gone for the most part, and I can probably sit without getting dizzy, but my throat hurts soo much and I feel kinda queasy."

"Well come on. I'm taking you to see a doctor."

"Iggyyyyyyyy."

"You're going." I stand up and slowly get Alfred up. Once he is, I help him to my car and drive to the doctor. It takes a few minutes to get there and sign in. Alfred gets called back a minute or so later. I read the book I brought for the time he's gone.

He comes back after a while with instructions to not talk too much, drink something, and to rest. On the way home, we pick up the medicine prescribed which Alfred is to take two every six hours.

Once back at his house, he takes the two pills with some water. I put a water bottle on the table and turn on his TV. I change it to the SciFy channel for him and sit next to him on the sofa. He has wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and leans against me when I sit down. He grabs his glasses so he can actually see the UFO program on. I hold him to me. I don't pay attention to the TV, but I look at it, letting my mind wander and glancing at him occasionally. I know he looks up at me every now and then too, feeling his gaze on me.

He falls asleep a few minutes before midnight. I take off his glasses, put them on the table, and turn the TV off. I lay him down so he's using my lap as a pillow. I gently run my fingers in his hair. I fall asleep soon after he does.

I wake up the next morning to find Alfred was already up. He was in the kitchen looking through the refrigerator.

"What are you doing? You should be resting." I get up and go over to him.

"But I'm hungry." He whispers.

"You could have woken me; I would have got you something."

He shakes his head and grabs a milkshake. He goes back to the sofa, grabbing my hand and slurping his milkshake on the way. He sits down, and I sit with him, hands sill clasped. He takes his medicine, puts down his milkshake, and leans on me. He rests his head on my shoulder.

He gently squeezes my hand and whispers, "Thanks for staying with me Iggy."

"You already said that." I tell him with a smile.

"No, I really mean it. I'm really happy that you're here with me."

"I know you are." I softly kiss his slightly warm forehead. I know my cheeks are a bit pink. He smiles widely up at me and gives me a hug. I hug him back after a short minute.

He lets go after a moment and leans into me. I wrap my arm around him, holding him close.

~/~/~

A few days later, Alfred is well again.

"Iggy? Iggy. Iggy. Come on get up dude!" He shakes my shoulders, waking me from my sleep.

"What is it Alfred? Do you feel better?" I ask him, waking up.

"Yeah dude."

"Did you wake me up just to tell me that?"

"Huh? No. I was, uh, just thinkin' 'bout stuff." He thinks about things? Probably nothing important, but I ask him anyway.

"What were you thinking about?"

He looks away from me. "Well I was thinkin' 'bout how ya stayed with me an' how it was really nice a' you and stuff, and, uh, it mae me think 'bout how glad I am that ya worry about me and still care about me. And I, uh, realized that I, uh, I kinda, uh, like you?" He looks up at me, blushing a bit.

I smile at him. "I like you as well."

He shakes his head. "No, I mean like, _like_. You know what I'm sayin'?"

"I know exactly what you're saying."

"Really?"

"Yes. And … I feel the same for you." I look away, embarrassed that I admitted it to him.

He wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek. I hug him back, glad that he's mine.


End file.
